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It finally got properly cold here in the Special K, cold enough to snow this morning, or so I was told. I was sleeping at the time and sadly missed out on the wintry spectacle, but later in the day a dusting of white stuff could be seen on the mountains that pop out of this rough-and-tumble town.

I've been sleeping a lot lately. October was such a ball bustin' month that I've been exhausted for much of November. I'm still lightin' the firecracker from both sides and really don't rest too much on the weekends, so once Monday rolls around I find myself sapped of all energy and just in the mood to sleep, when not teaching English or learning Korean. I've been back in Korean class for a couple of months now and some new stuff is sinking in, though I'm pretty lazy about studying hard outside of the four hours a week class time that I actually attend. This makes real concrete progress hard to measure, but I look at the Korean language as a huge mountain, and I'm up against it with a chisel. I'll just keep chipping away as long as I'm here. It's all I can do. I enjoy studying language, but trying to learn this one is a fucking challenge. It's really difficult. Really.

I have a new rock and roll band going on which is always a hoot. We're called "The Headaches," and I'm lucky enough to have both one the best bass players and one of the best guitarists in town on board, along with a hard hitting and very grumpy Kiwi drummer. We're gearing up for the Busan "Battle of the Bands," which kicks off this weekend, so we've been putting together some original songs, and if our Halloween show and last rehearsal are any indicators, we got a rockin' combo. We're sure to lose "The Battle," as we have no friends and will horrify the Korean girls who want to hear sweet pop songs, but rock we shall, muthafuckas.

I'm also just starting prelimary work on a big writing project. I can't go into any more detail about it here, but I'm really excited about it and let's keep our fingers crossed that everything works out.

Winter vacation is coming up. I was going to stick in Korea the whole time to save extra money to pay to take my girlfriend to America next summer, but seeing as how I no longer have a girlfriend, I'll take off to warmer climes to escape the urge to slash my own throat with a steak knife. I think I've settled on The Philippines this year. I'll mainly concentrate on the island of Palawan, where I'll do some serious chilling, as well as get my open water diving certification. I plan to do some dives at some sunken Japanese ships from WWII, along with taking in all varieties of coral, mollusks, and pyschedelic-looking fish. I also hope to get some work done, and figure if I stay in one general area, rather than zipping around the whole country like some meth-addled backpacker, that I'll have a better chance of concentrating.

My contract is up at the end of August, and I'll definitely go to The States in the summer to recharge and see what's left of my family. I've also decided to take a six month hiatus from my job (or just quit and get a new one upon my return) and travel throughout Mexico, Central America and South America. I speak decent Spanish and would like to level it up. But more than that, I've always dreamed of checking out that part of the world, and figure I need to do it soon. I feel the window closing. Though I am single now, I may not be for long, and the older I get, the more attractive the idea of marriage gets. Perhaps this is just because so many Koreans bark at me about it, but I really don't want to be the creepy old guy at the bar.

Come to think of it, I kind of already am.

Wedding Crashers

Sunday was the day of our friends' wedding, and it would be the first ceremony I'd attended in Korea where I was merely a spectator, rather than a participant. Surely being on the other side of the fence would be less stressful? Maybe not so much.

Suiting Up
My wife and I were scheduled to meet the bride and groom at the wedding hire store early in the day, where we would presumably offer any moral support that was required. Also attending were the bride's mother in her hanbok, her brother clutching a camera, and the groom's 'junior'. The whole subject of Korean male hierarchies is one which I haven't fully understood, but suffice to say that formal relationships are bonded in universities and the army during national service, out of which come a complicated, but individually and specifically defined network, of seniors and juniors through which a lifetime of social responsibilities and obligations will follow. This was one of those times.

The bride's Korean Mother can't get her hanbok quite right despite numerous adjustments, and the bride herself has long since disappeared for her preparation, but aside from this the atmosphere is relatively calm in the waiting area, and good natured banter is exchanged back and forth between the groom and the others. I can only follow bits of the conversation - enough to sometimes guess at the context - and understanding the humour is out of the question, so before long I'm probably the second most stressed person in the room. When the bride is finally ready, we decamp in some haste from the clothes hire store to the wedding hall, which is probably about a mile away. This is when we discover that due to a slight failure in planning our attendance, there's no space in the cars for us, but fortunately the store owner kindly offers us a lift.

Dunkin' Donuts
The Wedding Hall is in the middle of Seomyeon, within a tall building in a narrow and busy commercial street several floors up above a branch of Dunkin' Donuts. We've rejoined the entourage in the street and when we make our way up the building to emerge chaotically from an elevator it is to be greeted by the sight of a large hall from which several separate wedding rooms open up - some large Western church-style affairs, with aisles and faux alters, and some Korean in the style of small traditional rooms. The reflections of disco lights are beginning to improbably roam the walls of one of the rooms, making it look not so much like a wedding as the beginning of Logan's Run

Hanboks and Mobiles

I am lost in a sea of Koreans, most of whom I don't know, but some of whom perhaps I should - the problem is it's impossible to tell who belongs to which wedding. There are suits, hanboks and mobiles every direction I turn. I'm suited up too - not a look I've promoted for myself in this country, but even though this may be radically different from my everyday thirty-something clothing style, I stick out like a sore thumb.

So I'm immediately recognised and greeted by people who look so radically different in their make-up and clothing I have trouble remembering who I'm supposed to know, and how well. This is important because one needs to say the right greeting based on familiarity - who I am saying annyeong haseyo '안녕하세요' to and who simply gets a more casual annyeong? Inevitably, it isn't long before I make a mistake and slight someone who I haven't met before but who I greet as though I had.

Additional rooms provide areas for photos before the ceremony, and it was in one such room that the bride cries ruining her make-up. So with five minutes to go before the ceremony is due to begin, a team of helpers are working on her with all the fervour of a formula one pit crew. A disaster is very narrowly averted. As we rush towards the designated room, buffet vouchers are thrust urgently into our hands from the bride's family like they are some form of contraband, which later turns out to be not so far from the truth.

Because we've been otherwise engaged the room is full when we get there, and as there's no designated seating we have to stand at the back, which seems a bit off - especially when my wife holds the semi-official title of 'matchmaker' to the couple. The bride enters shortly after us, and her immediate family have to fight their way through the chaos we are now part of. We end up watching quite a lot of the ceremony on a cheap screen, which has thoughtfully been provided for the cheap seats, although judging by the loud talking that goes on constantly through the entire ceremony, I think it is a wasted effort.

Food Beats Wedding
But the crowd did thin out - as did the initially crowded seating. Ten ajeossis and ajummas had left before the bride and groom had finished walking down the aisle with its illuminated fake rose petals and the music had abruptly stopped. Before the ceremony has finished, I roughly count around another thirty out, and those are just the ones I saw - because it wasn't long before I could take a seat and get away from the pub crowd behind me. I'm still perplexed by this incredible display of rudeness, and am no less staggered by it when it is explained to me that the people leaving are heading for the buffet. Apparently, this is very common in Korean weddings, and unlike with a Western wedding it's the back seats which are coveted, not the ones nearest the front - as these allow a quick getaway from the ceremony. I learn later that the bride's mother has apparently had to cajole guests to move forward before we arrived.

The groom plays his pan flute as part of the ceremony - and for the first time this quietens down some of the talkers. The boyfriend of one of the bride's sisters has announced his intention to sing as well, and we brace ourselves as he lifts up the microphone, but actually he's... quite good. There are rounds of photos - cut short by the next wedding party angrily trying to claim the room - and a Korean wedding ceremony to go, which few people attend as it's in one of those small traditional Korean rooms, and is really just for the families and a few onlookers. The bride and groom have to change into their traditional costumes - complete with a bizarrely uncomfortable (I speak from experience) square metal belt for the groom - so there is a lot of waiting around.

Lost in Buffet
We reach the buffet at 2.30pm, by which time those first ten people - who left as the bride and groom walked down the aisle - have an hour's head start on us. Not that this means that there's no food left; it's a big place catering to multiple ceremonies and the buffet is rolling. Much as there were several wedding rooms around the main hall, there are several eating areas off from where the food is provided - but with no guidance on where anyone should sit, the guests from the various weddings are hopelessly intermingled. By some chance, we are found by two other friends of the bride and groom who will probably be the next to marry, and then by the happy couple themselves, so some of us actually manage to eat together.

Over the lukewarm food I'm asked about British wedding traditions by the girl I'd slighted earlier. I got as far as explaining how we tended to marry in churches rather than wedding halls - which felt a bit like a wedding factory with four or five ceremonies going on at once. But I didn't manage to get far enough into our hybrid English-Korean conversation to explain that when we get married in church, that's when you're really married. In Korea, it's just a ceremony and the actual legal act of marrying is done in a local government office. Our friends won't do this until they return from their honeymoon in the Philippines - so technically they're still both single...

The Wedding Car

We escort the bride and groom out to the wedding car, complete with Kartrider inspired '100ton' aerial and windscreen wipers stuck out into the air - which thankfully weren't turned on as they sometimes are with gloves on waving in celebration, and they unexpectedly offer us a lift home. So there we are - four of us crammed onto the back seat - which seemed a bit hard on the newly married couple, even if they'd insisted on it. At a junction, the lights are out and a soldier is directing traffic, but the situation is difficult. Our driver jumps out and puts the windscreen wipers down - 'I can't see anything' he says, unsurprisingly. But he keeps the hazard warning lights on all the way home.

Despite the hazard lights and ribbons covering the car making it somewhat conspicuous, we are still carved up on the road twice on our way back, confirming that Korean drivers aren't willing to spare anyone an accident, no matter what the circumstances.

The Work Is Just Beginning
It is around 4pm when we reach home, and for us, it is over. I'd struggled through the day trying to understand conversations and make myself understood, mostly failing and feeling all the more frustrated for it. By comparison, my own wedding ceremony three months after arriving in Korea seemed so much easier; I was merely a passenger with whom there were few expectations, and after our honeymoon in Gyeongju we went back to our apartment to get on with our lives. Our friends would be flying to the Philippines later, and after returning would spend their first night back at one parents' house, and then the next night's at the others' as Korean tradition dictates, before finally moving into their new place together, and commencing a lifetime of new family responsibilities.

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Busanmike.blogspot.com

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Daegu, Sinam-dong - Goongjeon Lavender (궁전라벤더)

This is a nice, big jjimjilbang near Dong Daegu KTX station (동대구역). Just by the looks of the exterior I have wanted to go inside since I first saw it a few months ago. Quite a few bus lines pass by this building including 156, 401, 414, 521, 618, 650, 708, 808, 937, 980, or the express #1 (급행1). It's quite a walk from the subway, but would be a basic cost ride from either Sincheon station (신천역) or Dongdaegu station on Line 1.

The jjimjilbang entry fee is 8,000 (5,000 for kids 7 and under) then you head in. Drop off your shoes then get your clothes and towels inside the sauna. It's big, don't be alarmed. Lockers to the left, sauna and counters to the right. The lockers are in smaller coves to keep some privacy, and the prep area isn't too public. Inside the sauna it was clear that the building is older, but well kept. Some of the showers don't have hot water working, but even on Sunday afternoon it wasn't too busy to find one that did. (There are 30 standing showers and even more sit-down style ones.)

It's a typical sauna: you can relax in various hot tubs, a couple warm massaging tubs, 2 dry sauna rooms or a cold-water tub. Popular with children, the large cold tub runs the width of the sauna along the back wall and is surrounded in a dark, cave-like atmosphere. It even has stalactites descending from the ceiling and odd rock formations on the walls (pictured at left). Their website shows an ice room as part of the wet sauna area. That's unusual and I didn't notice it while I was there, but I guess it might work.

On a special note, there's a dead sea salt tub (사해탕) that is separated from the main area by floor-to-ceiling glass walls. Due to the high salt concentration, it's recommended you only spend 10 minutes at at time in the therapeutic, dark blue waters - enjoy it!

You'll have to step out into the cool hallway, uncomfortably barefooted, to get up to the 4th floor jjimjilbang area, but it's worth it. Up there, the age of the building is less apparent. The main area is warmly lit and cozy, with a couple of small rooms around corners to provide quiet places for rest. The mens' and womens' segregated sleeping areas are separated by glass sliding doors, so it seems they may be a bit bright during the night. All the heated rooms have a twist: A heavenly-scented lavender room, open lounge-style yellow soil room (황토방), and the usual sleeping caves are instead a roomful of 4" high platforms which have adjustable under-floor(ondol) heating! Genius, aside from the loss of cave-y privacy. Even the need for an ice room has been mitigated by the existence of an ultra-cool passageway between the 5th floor lounge and the restaurant/PC room/DVD room/singing room wing. The restaurant is big and has windows looking out to the smoking area, which is a large patio with resting places and vegetation to keep your mind at ease. I think there may even be an artificial putting green up there!

궁전라벤더 - Goongjeon Lavender
대구 동구 신암3동 214-12
Daegu, Dong Gu, Sinam 3 Dong 214-12
053-952-3000

Rates: 8,000 won for adult
5,000 won for child

Wikimapia of Goongjeon Lavender Spa

Honeymoon: Macau's Monte Fort

While casinos are the major pulling force for the majority of tourists to Macau, the area does have a lot of other things to offer. Its unique history as a Chinese-Portugese outpost has shaped the landscape, with various forts and 16th century European architecture spread across the territory.

The Macau government imposes a 40% tax on all gambling revenue, and has used a good portion of the profits to boost infrastructure and preserve its cultural relics. The Monte Fort is a good example of this, sitting a little away from the city on a hill, with authentic stonework and well-kept gardens.

Intricate tree root lattices like these cover much of the old walls. I like how the smaller roots merge with each other over time and become one larger vessel. It's similar to what happens when you graft plants together.

Off in the distance, the conspicuous outline of the Casino Lisboa can be seen. It lights up brilliantly at night, and can even be seen from mainland China.

The grounds keeper was watering the flowers below with a hose. He was standing on the edge of the wall, with a good 20 metre drop below him.

The purpose of this lighthouse was to warn residents of incoming typhoons during monsoon season. A large portion of the population used to be fisherman and traders, and this lighthouse would flash different patterns according to what the weather would be like. For example, there was one pattern which meant 'incoming storm' and another that meant 'clear skies'.

The Monte fort was described as Macau's primary defensive structure in times of siege. Fortunately though, it never had to be used. These large cannons were able to hit targets out in the harbour.

A nice view of the lighthouse and sky. It's a pity that lighthouses don't have much of a role anymore. There's something mystical and romantic about them. For sailors lost out in the dark seas, they were beacons of humanity.

I like staring up at them while the clouds pass by, inducing a mild state of vertigo.

I told Heather to pose on these stairs. I imagined that the slightly rustic paintwork would make for a nice vintage photograph.

Back when I was an undergrad student, I started to get into the more detailed aspects of photography. But then I gave up when I realised that most of my photos were not very good, compared to the ones that people were posting on the photography forums.

Then Heather told me to pose for some photos. For some reason, I have never been very photogenic. See that smile that I'm doing? That's the one that says 'You don't need to count to three every time you take a photo....'

Here's some bamboo scaffolding that was supporting a radio antenna. Bamboo is reliably strong enough that construction workers have no qualms about climbing around on the top of structures like this. They remind me of the engineering projects we used to do in primary school, building things out of drinking straws and sticky tape to see how much weight they could support.

Running underneath the fort is a network of tunnels which were built as an air-raid shelter.

The views were nice but the day was an uncomfortable 37 degrees. I prefer monsoon season, but you do tend to get ridiculously wet in a matter of seconds.

Despite the heat, these little kids were playing in the sun without any problems. Heather and I stared at them for a while, wondering what their secret was. Maybe they had cold packs in their undies.

Luckily for us, there's a cable car service that takes you down the other side of the hill. But it wasn't air-conditioned, which was interesting. You wouldn't want to get stuck in the middle during a day like that.

People who come from Macau are called Macanese. The population is 95% Chinese, but because the official languages are both Cantonese and Portugese, most public signs include Portugese translations. Jo-anna informs me that Spanish and Portugese are two distinct languages.

I don't know any Portugese, but I can hazard a guess at what 'excrementos' means.

Macau has yellow taxis, whereas Hong Kong has red ones.

I appreciate trivial facts like these.

You can use Hong Kong dollars in Macau, or their local currency which is called Patacas. One Pataca is worth only slightly less than a Hong Kong dollar, and the locals here treat them as the same thing. There are 100 Avos in a Macanese Pataca.

I like the sound of 'Patacas'. Throughout our stay in Macau, I was often asking Heather how many Patacas she had left, just because I wanted to say the word Patacas.

This is the central business district of Macau. Besides tourism, there is a smaller fishing industry here, as well as a lot of financial services companies.

A lot of the streets of Macau have good mosaic tiling. The stones are all individually cut by council workers and the process is more labourious than concrete, but it's much easier on the eye.

I'd say I'm about half way through posting the pictures from our honeymoon now. It was only two weeks, but we kept ourselves busy. The next couple of posts are still from Macau, then it's off to Australia!

That's all for this post. More from Macau coming soon...

Busan Cinematheque to Screen Ecletic Mix of Classics

“FILMS IN OUR MEMORIES” FILM SERIES

Where: Busan Cinematheque

When: November 17 – December 20

This month’s lineup at the Busan cinematheque is supposed to have something to do with memory, but I don’t buy it, and I can’t for the life of me see what links these movies together. The selection is super eclectic, sprawling from the 30s to the 90s, and drawing from the works of filmmakers from different movements. There’s nothing wrong with variety, but the lack of a common thread makes writing an introduction for the film series a more difficult task. So I’ll just present you with the list of movies being screened and let you know that I’m stoked to see more by Lubitsch, Demy, and Carne, and perhaps revisit “Fargo” and “Last Tango in Paris.” But what I’m looking forward to most is catching Lean’s 3 hour epic about the Bolshevik Revolution, “Doctor Zhivago,” on the big screen.

Films in English or with English Subtitles:

The Merry Widow (Ernst Lubitsch, 1934)

Therese Raquin (Marcel Carné, 1953)

Twenty-Four Eyes (Keisuke Kinoshita, 1954)

Doctor Zhivago (David Lean, 1965)

The Graduate (Mike Nichols, 1967)

Midnight Cowboy (John Schlesinger, 1969)

Last Tango in Paris (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1972)

A Chinese Ghost Story (Siu-Tung Ching, 1987)

Thelma and Louise (Ridley Scott, 1991)

Fargo (The Coen Bros, 1996)

Films Without English Subtitles:

The Young Girls of Rochefort (Jacques Demy, 1967)

Cesar and Rosalie (Claude Sautet, 1972)

Our Sweet Days of Youth (Bae Chang-Ho, 1987)

Time of the Gypsies (Emir Kusturica, 1989)

Every Morning of the World (Alain Corneau, 1991)

Korean Movie Review #2: A Good Lawyer’s Wife (2003)

( Source )

Like last week’s choice of movie, A Good Lawyer’s Wife defies easy description.

Heavily marketed on the basis of its explicit sexual content, and with probably no longer than 10 minutes between one sex scene and the next, on the surface it is simply pornography masquerading as art-house cinema. Or so I thought when I first saw it at the cinema in August 2003, my – let’s be honest – appreciation of Moon So-ri’s (문소리) nude body tempered by the knowledge that the object of her affections was Bong Tae-gyu (봉태규), then regularly appearing in numerous childish and annoying television commercials. Hardly lacking for access to pornography, I saw no reason to watch it again in the next 6 years.

But the movie was my first introduction to Hwang Jung-min (황정민), whom after seeing his transformation into a bumbling, possibly slightly mentally-handicapped idiot in You Are My Sunshine (너는 내 운명; 2005) a little later, instantly became one of my favorite actors. And then seeing So-ri’s brief but stellar performance in Peppermint Candy (박하사탕; 2000) last week too, I thought I’d give it another chance. After all, my tastes are a little more mature and more discerning now, and far from being put off by depictions of relationships between 30-something women and (often) childish younger men, if all goes to plan I’ll be formally writing a dissertation on precisely that by next March.

Watching it (again) myself over several nights originally then, I was very surprised at how much I liked it this time, and how much of the plot I’d either overlooked or simply gotten completely wrong 6 years ago. Struggling to determine why my opinion had changed so dramatically on a second viewing, I decided to watch it with my wife to see if she liked it also, and more importantly why. Unfortunately, she too thought it was largely pornography masquerading as art-house cinema(!), but she did at least confirm what I’d relearned about the plot. And watching her reactions out of the corner of my eye while ironing shirts (as one does when seeing a highly pornographic movie for the third time), finally it came to me.

The first thing of note is that its English title is an extremely poor choice. Although it’s true that So-ri’s sexual frustrations with lawyer-husband Jung-min are the catalyst for her having an affair with her teenage neighbor (not actually consummated until close to the end, but – rather than maintaining the suspense – the DVD introduction helpfully shows that scene!), she is by no means a “society wife” smiling inanely at his shoulder at numerous dinner parties and so forth; in fact, she literally has no involvement in his working life and relationships whatsoever. There’s no evidence to suggest that she “gave up her dancing career in order to be a good lawyer’s wife” either, despite what the appalling Wikipedia article on the movie suggests, and one suspects that – like many English-speaking viewers – the writer was misled by the title.

Instead, a much better translation of “바람난 가족” would have been “A Family Having Affairs,” and accordingly it is quickly revealed in the first few minutes that with the exception of Jung-min’s dying father (competently played by Kim In-moon {김인문}) all main adult characters are or will have illicit sexual relationships: Jung-min a long-standing one with Baek Jeong-rim (백정림), a very complex character difficult to get to grips with in just one sitting; his mother Yoon Yeo-jeong (윤여정) with a minor character; and of course So-ri with Tae-gyu. And therein lies the source(s) of the continual sex scenes, which apparently attracted Korean viewers in droves (it was #1 at the box office).

But what, amongst all the sex, were the other points of this movie? What, indeed, was its “moral,” which – as I stressed in my last review – I believe a movie has to have in order to be worthwhile?

Well, without wanting to give any of the plot away, by virtue of all the affairs this is clearly a family with problems (even an adopted son is aware that Jung-min is lying when he says he’s working late). Jung-min’s reasons for his are unfortunately never elaborated, but his mother’s are: like Moon So-ri, she was sexually frustrated.

And how, in a marriage, might one become so?

Well, while I’m not naive or intellectually shallow enough to attribute all married couples’ sexual problems to a lack of communication, nor arguing that communicating with one’s spouse (or partner for that matter) automatically solves them, I would wager that – if you’ll forgive the pun – a lack of communication is at the root of the vast majority of them. But whereas So-ri may not have been able to resolve her own sexual frustration with Jung-min given that he was already secretly having an affair, tellingly she doesn’t even try. Instead, as one would expect from a fucked-up family, she seems to have her heart set on fucking Tae-gyu literally the morning after Jung-min fails to satisfy her (the poster on the right is rather misleading).

Granted, to a large extent I’d simply be projecting in seeing meaning in that. After all, after 9 years together as a couple (5 married), my wife and I have naturally had our own sexual issues, especially after the birth of 2 children, but – with the knowledge that not doing so would have grave consequences for our marriage – all happily resolved by simply discussing things. Hence, despite all the attention on them, I do personally see all the affairs and the sex in the movie as natural consequences of and/or metaphors for something deeper. As I think was the deliberate intention of director Im Sang-soo (임상수).

For instance, as Darcy Paquet in his excellent review at Koreanfilm.org points out, this is not the first time he has presented frank sexuality and nonconformist heroes in his movies. And in particular, bear in mind that with: the longest working hours in the world (albeit many of which are not actually spent working); the lowest women’s workforce participation rate in the OECD; and prostitution accounting for 4.1% of GDP also, then as this Japanese author (and personal experience) suggests, there are a lot of virtually sexless marriages in this part of the world.

Ergo, there may be more to the popularity of this movie than mere voyeurism, particularly as it was the enthusiastic response to finally having such frustrations articulated in popular culture in the mid-1990s that is what made movies like this possible in the first place.

True, I’ve yet to look for confirmation from Korean-language sources of that (watch this space). But as a response to potential accusations of overanalysis and projection then, let me offer this challenge: at the behest of their relatives and descendants, Jung-min’s main legal case in the movie – presented in the very first scene in fact – involves the unearthing of victims of an atrocity, which presumably took place during the Korean War or just before. There are also references to Jung-min’s own extended family being separated by the Korean War. While I have yet to come across any reviewer that interprets the former as any more than merely establishing his character as a lawyer though, and hence easily interchangeable with any other legal case, what purpose could both serve other than as metaphors for the broken family at the heart of this movie?

Likewise, gratuitous sex is not what this movie is all about. And so compelling are all main characters’ stories, that despite yourself you may be wishing that one or two sex scenes had been removed in favor of further character development by the end of the movie. Indeed, the only criticism of the movie I have personally is that even after 3 viewings, Jung-min’s motivations for his affairs remain a frustrating enigma.

Next week, if I can find it: My Wife is a Gangster (조폭 마느라; 2001) Samaritan Girl (사마리아; 2004).

Posted in Korean Movie Reviews, Korean Movies, Korean Sexuality Tagged: A Good Lawyer's Wife, Bong Tae-gyu, 문소리, 바람난 가족, 봉태규, 김인문, Im Sang-soo, 윤여정, 임상수, Kim In-moon, Moon So-Ri, Yoon Yeo-jeong

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Question from a reader: Pros and cons of coming to Korea

A reader writes in:

I hope you don’t mind me emailing you? I came across your blog whilst surfing online and would appreciate any advice from you with regard to teaching English in South Korea.

I’m South African and would be coming across in March 2010, I’ve been offered work in the province Chungcheongnamdo School District, can you please tell me more about it?

As you can imagine I’m a bit nervous as this is my first time working abroad in a foreign country so I’d like a bit more information i.e. advantages/disadvantages/pro’s/con’s with working and living in South Korea.

Any advice would be so much appreciated.

As far as accepting work in Korea, take a look at where Chungcheongnamdo is (the light green province):

Photo credit: http://www.koreaontherocks.com

Depending on where you are in the province, you may be somewhat far away from major cities, but that can be both a plus or minus. Chungcheongnam-do does have a few subway stations on line 1 that connect to Cheonan and terminate at Sinchang; Daejeon is connected to Seoul via KTX, which takes only an hour to traverse the distance between the two cities.

As for pros and cons, that's the sort of list you'd have to sit down and make for yourself, based on your own research and feelings. There are plenty of reasons to come to Korea, or to try your luck with another country as I've recently written about. My personal pros and cons list is below - again, make your own.

PROS:

Relatively nice standard of living, even higher than in the US in some areas
Easy-to-use public transportation
Relatively clean and comfortable lifestyle
Plenty of places to travel / plenty of things to do (even after 19 months of seeing one new place a week, there's plenty more to go).
Plenty of community if you know where to look

CONS:

Some discrimination against foreigners
Getting more difficult to find a quality job
Very few career options - you need to break out of teaching unless you like making the same salary with little chance of raises
The language barrier can limit contact with the locals

Since you're not the first person to write with this question, check out these posts at http://chrisinsouthkorea.blogspot.com/2009/09/question-from-reader-come-to-korea-to.html, http://chrisinsouthkorea.blogspot.com/2009/08/question-from-reader-coastal-cities-and.html, and

http://chrisinsouthkorea.blogspot.com/2009/05/question-from-reader-finding-job.html.

Basically, the decision comes down to whether you WANT to move (choice, perceived lifestyle improvement, etc) or NEED to move (have to find a job or place to live). If you NEED to move, Korea probably isn't for you - it can be too unpredictable at times.

If you WANT to move, proceed to step 2 - what do you WANT to do? There are teaching jobs of all age levels and all over the country - some are just a little harder to get. In general, teaching kids is the easiest job to get, but teaching adults is also a job that's easier to get. Teaching at university is far more competitive and usually requires a Master's degree.

Later on, move to step 3 - review your personal reasons to traveling / wanting to leave your home country. Do you just want to do it for a year? Do you have responsibilities to take care while away from home (bills to pay, houses / cars to take care)? What might you get into after the first year?

Since you've already been offered a job, I'd be inclined to learn more about the job, and accept it if it's what you're looking for. What are the hours like? How much is the salary? What other responsibilities will you have outside of teaching? Bear in mind that other jobs will be available - and you have plenty of time to find them. Good luck.

If you have a question of your own, write to me at chrisinsouthkorea AT gmail DOT com.

Readers, what are your pros and cons of living in Korea?

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Korean Music is Not Compatible With Ecstasy

This has been the best Monday ever, and it's not even 2 pm yet. I almost want to go to bed and call it a day. It can only go downhill from here. There have been at least three great moments of quality what-the-Hell-just-happened for me so far today. This was just one. We were discussing anti-smoking regulations in one of my favourite classes this morning. It went something like this:

Barbie: Does anybody have any vocabulary questions from the article?

Sober Student: I just want to know... have you ever had marijuana.

Barbie: That's not... okay, yes. Yes, I have. Before coming to Korea. I quit a few months before arriving. This is less of a big deal where I come from.

Sober Student: What does marijuana feel like?

Not Sober Student: Marijuana is too soft! Like cigarettes.

Barbie: Like cigarettes?

Not Sober Student: Yes. Too soft.

Barbie: You're clearly not getting the right stuff.

Not Sober Student: Ecstasy is better. Marijuana, cigarettes, too soft. But ecstasy is good.

Sober Student: Barbie, have you...

Barbie: No. I haven't. I -

Not Sober Student: Ecstasy is good, but no good with Korean music. Korean music, too slow. Korean music and ecstasy are not compatible.

The class just moved on with the lesson at that point, because really, what more was there to say?